Chapter 53: What Remains
The trembling deepened, resonating with the beat of Riya's faltering heart.
His limbs lay limp against the silk-bound cuffs tethering him to the bed.
Each breath came with effort, each pulse of mana like broken glass in his veins.
He had failed the trial.
The illusion—no, the replica—of Semiramis still lingered in the air like poison, her mocking smile burned into the back of his mind.
She had broken him with ease, her voice silk-wrapped steel, her eyes hollow copies of the real thing.
He had known it wasn't her.
But it hadn't mattered.
And now, he was falling apart.
The bed beneath him shuddered as the ground quaked once more, reality beginning to fracture around the edges.
Then, a flicker.
A sensation—subtle, wrong.
Riya's eyes, half-lidded from exhaustion and defeat, widened slightly as a sharp pain pulsed through his hand.
He turned it slowly.
The Command Seals were fading.
Not glowing.
Not sparking.
Disappearing.
"...No," he whispered.
The magical brand that marked his bond to his Servants—were unraveling like smoke on the wind.
He was being severed.
His voice cracked as he forced out the words, raising a trembling arm.
Three Command Seals lit up on his skin, flaring with desperate power.
"Richard… Robin… Leonidas… come to me…!"
The seals burned away, their light searing through the crumbling chamber.
His voice rasped through dry lips.
The seals flared one final time, light erupting in a dying blaze.
Magic crackled, wild and untamed.
In the blink of an eye—
Three figures tore through space.
Richard's crimson cape fluttered, eyes sharp as ever.
Robin landed crouched beside the bed, instantly aware of the tension in the air.
Leonidas appeared last—shield raised, stance firm—but his brow furrowed.
"...Master?" Richard asked, scanning the chains.
"What the hell's going on?"
But before Riya could speak—
Leonidas grunted and staggered back.
His spiritual form flickered.
"No—Leonidas?" Riya's voice trembled.
"What's happening?"
Robin swore under his breath. "Shit. I can feel it too."
"My tether—my bond to you—it's fading."
Riya didn't have time to think.
He forced his arms up, screaming through clenched teeth, calling deep into the connection buried within his soul.
Merlin.
He needed her power.
"Hope of Avalon!"
Light bloomed.
Not harsh or divine, but soft, like spring rain.
The world melted away in silence.
Chains unraveled.
The bed disappeared.
And the world shifted.
Green fields spread under a golden sky.
Cherry blossoms drifted lazily in a breeze.
Avalon.
A sanctuary beyond time, a realm untouched by sorrow.
Riya collapsed to his knees on the soft grass, gasping, his body trembling with strain.
Richard dropped beside him, steadying him.
Robin scanned the area in silence.
But—
There were only three.
Richard.
Robin.
Riya.
Riya turned.
"Leonidas…?"
Nothing.
Only air.
Only the absence of a shield.
Riya stared at the place where Leonidas had stood.
His hand closed into a trembling fist.
He was already gone.
Silence fell again.
Only the wind answered him, whispering through the eternal fields of Avalon.
Meanwhile…
Rin stood alone in the glass-walled chamber, her fists clenched at her sides.
She had watched everything.
The trial of Envy was cruel—it forced her to do nothing.
Three times she had watched Riya—her Riya—give himself to others.
Three times she had swallowed her jealousy.
She had passed.
But when she saw him fail.
Her chest tightened like a vice.
No. No, not like this.
Tears welled up.
She pressed her palm against the glass, wanting—needing—to break through.
But then, as if mocking her suffering, the air around Riya shimmered—thick with silver mist and ethereal light.
Rin's eyes widened.
His chains cracked as a soft incantation slipped from Riya's lips, barely audible through the glass.
"Hope of Avalon…"
The space around him bloomed with white lilies and golden light, swallowing the twisted bedroom in an otherworldly brilliance.
It wasn't a teleportation spell.
It was something deeper—older—a sanctuary hidden within the weave of magic itself.
Rin's heart caught in her throat as she realized what he was doing.
He's escaping… he's using Merlin's Noble Phantasm…
Then—he was gone.
The room collapsed into sparks and silence.
Rin gasped, stumbling back as the chamber began to shake.
A long, shuddering breath escaped her lips.
"…He made it."
And that, more than anything, kept her from breaking.
Relief crushed her like a wave.
She sank to her knees, heart still pounding.
Then—
Click.
A door at the far end of the room slid open, quiet and deliberate.
Two figures stepped inside.
One, a man dressed in regal black, with eyes like polished glass—cold, exact, dangerous.
The other, tall and draped in robes that shimmered with alchemical sigils, his presence ancient and unnatural.
The very air around him twisted, reality humming at the edges.
Rin's breath caught, but she refused to step back again.
"…Tch. Great. Just what I needed," she muttered, arms crossing, masking the tremble in her fingers with practiced arrogance.
"The sadist and his antique bookworm."
Her mind raced, analyzing, calculating.
She didn't recognize the mage, but the aura coming off his Servant made her skin crawl.
This was no ordinary Caster.
He felt like a library of curses wrapped in flesh.
Still, she tilted her chin up, glaring through the glass as if she were the one in control.
"I don't care who you are," she said under her breath.
"You're not touching him again."
"Not if I have to burn this whole floor down."
Her heart thundered—but she didn't flinch.
Because Rin Tohsaka doesn't waver.
Not now.
Not ever.
The man in black stepped forward with the ease of someone used to being obeyed.
He offered Rin a slow, mocking bow.
"Lyle Cadwell," he said, voice smooth as poisoned silk.
Lyle gestured to the robed figure beside him.
"And this is my Servant—Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa."
Agrippa dipped his head slightly, a small, deliberate bow—just enough to acknowledge his name without offering respect.
"And we are the rulers of the Fourth Floor."
Rin's eyes narrowed, her body tense, but she held her tongue.
Lyle smiled, straightening.
"Congratulations. You passed the Trial of Envy."
"Quite the feat, watching your beloved crumble three times over without so much as flinching."
He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"Impressive. Or perhaps just cold."
Before she could snap at them, Agrippa raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Two glowing doors shimmered into existence beside her.
From the first, Cú Chulainn and Fergus stepped through, blinking as they took in their surroundings.
Her heart leapt.
The second door opened with a hiss—and from it, a bound and blindfolded Master was dragged forward, chained and kneeling.
Lyle gestured lazily. "As reward, you may reclaim your Servants… and take this one's life."
Rin's hands clenched.
Her jaw tightened.
"…Not yet," she said, voice low.
"I'm not leaving without Riya."
Lyle clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, then offered her a wicked grin.
"So loyal. How touching."
He raised his hand again—and with another snap, the chamber twisted.
Behind him, dozens of doors appeared along the walls, each creaking open in eerie synchronization.
From them emerged a horde of shadowy Servants—twisted echoes of those who had fallen, corrupted by darkness.
At their head, cloaked in a mist of black mana, stood Leonidas.
Rin's breath caught.
"My servant is useless without his Reality Marble," Lyle said with a shrug.
"But do to his Reality Marble I've collected quite the army from other unfortunate Masters."
"Quantity over quality, as they say."
He stepped closer, shadows crawling along the floor behind him.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, Rin Tohsaka."
"My Servant's Noble Phantasm allows for generous hospitality."
"But if you interfere—your Servants will fall under Agrippa's command."
"My command."
The threat lingered like a blade just above her throat.
Lyle turned, cape fluttering.
"I don't mind waiting for your little hero."
"The moment he returns, I'll take what's left of his forces… and finally carve a path to the next floor."
"There's a Master-Servant duo there I've been dying to kill."
With that, he vanished into shadow, leaving Rin behind—alone with her Servants, the chained Master, and the chilling promise of war.
The golden fields of Avalon stretched endlessly, warm winds brushing over Riya's skin.
The light soothed, but it couldn't scrub away the tingling poison still riding his veins.
He lay sprawled in the grass, shirt half-unbuttoned, his breathing slow but shallow.
His body ached in places he didn't think could ache—especially there.
"I mean…" he muttered under his breath, "credit where it's due... even losing felt way too good."
The replica of Semiramis had been thorough—leaving him reeling, not just from magical toxins, but from maddening, slow-burning pleasure woven into every nerve.
Even now, Avalon struggled to flush it all away.
Robin crouched nearby, tilting his head.
"You say something?"
Riya waved him off. "Just wondering if being drugged counts as foreplay."
Behind them, Richard leaned against a tree, sharp-eyed but silent.
Riya's gaze drifted toward the space beside him.
Leonidas was gone.
No sign.
No echo.
Just… gone.
Riya's smile faded, lips pressing into a firm line. "He's not mine anymore."
Robin blinked. "You're sure?"
Riya nodded once, cold creeping back into his tone. "Felt the tether snap."
He looked down at his hand, then clenched it.
"Which means… whoever's behind this—Master and Servant—they've got him now."
Richard stepped forward. "Do we know who it is?"
"No." Riya's voice was flat.
"But whoever it is… I'll find them."
Robin sat back on his heels. "Okay. So, what's the plan?"
Riya stood up slowly, rolling his shoulders, still wincing from the phantom sting of the poisons.
"I've got no trial left. No Master left to kill... except whoever runs that floor."
Richard stepped forward, brow furrowed.
"And if we go back with you… we'll be cut off, won't we?"
"You won't." Riya looked at both of them.
"Because you're not going back with me."
Robin's expression stiffened.
"Seriously?"
Riya gave a half-shrug.
"Step through that door with me, and our contract's gone—just like that."
"He will turn you into his puppets."
"Forever."
"And you're just gonna go there alone?"
Robin asked.
A beat of silence passed.
Riya's smile curled, sarcastic but tired.
"What's new?"
Richard sighed. "We'll stay."
"But don't make us wait too long."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll try not to die too hard."
Riya turned away, boots crunching softly in the grass.
As he walked, a familiar voice, sultry and amused, curled around the edge of his consciousness.
"Still thinking about me, darling?"
His breath caught—not from pain, but from heat.
Deep in the corridors of his soul, in the half-formed dream-realm where echoes of Servants lingered, she stood—Semiramis.
Not the replica, but the real one.
Her long dark hair flowed like ink, and her crimson eyes glittered with decadent pleasure.
She leaned against the gilded edge of a phantom throne, one leg crossed over the other, lips tugged into a smirk.
"Next time," she purred, "I want to do it while you're still conscious enough to appreciate my technique."
Riya blinked once, sighed, and kept walking.
"Great. She's got commentary now."
Semiramis laughed behind his eyes, sultry and slow.
He didn't answer her.
But he didn't push her away either.
Riya exhaled, dragging himself upright with a grunt.
"Alright…" He rolled his shoulders, wincing as sore joints popped.
"Guess it's time for the half-dead guy to go fight a floor boss."
He glanced back with a tired smirk.
"Should be a blast."